The Plague Called Imayoshi Shoichi
by Calignosity
Summary: Imayoshi is amused and Hanamiya wants nothing more than a hammer to the head (Or, the two play a game of poker that could arguably be the most entertaining day of Imayoshi's life). Foul language, Yaoi themes.


_This is something I wrote in the wee hours of the night when I realized that I had an unhealthy obsession with these two characters, enjoy. Cross-posted on Tumblr under the name of EvergoDreaming._

**Beta'd by Minatu-Chan  
(Much thanks!)**

_Things to Note: My interpretation of Hanamiya may be different from others, so for some he may act out of character, reader beware. _

Hanamiya is in his second year of middle school, Imayoshi is in his third year in middle school.

Call:_ To put into the pot an amount of money equal to the most recent bet or raise.  
_Check:_ To not bet, with the option to call or raise later in the betting round. Equivalent to betting zero dollars._

_(Definitions are credited to the pokerstars website)_

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**The Plague Named Imayoshi Shoichi**

"You're going to give me diabetes with that smile, _senpai_," Hanamiya growled, delivering the honorific with a malicious tone as he glanced over the older, glasses wearing male that stood in the entrance to his classroom, sickly smile on his face.

"Oh, come on now Hana-chan, you should be glad you have such a caring upperclassman like me," Imayoshi grinned and walked toward the other seated in a desk, notebook open in front of him. The senior lent in, popping Hanamiya's personal bubble with a couple strategically placed hands, and whistled appreciatively while looking at the complicated equations that decorated the lined paper. "I'll even tutor you if you need help," Imayoshi let his glasses drop a centimeter and opened his normally shut eyes. "I'm just so nice, aren't I?"

"Don't call me that," Hanamiya grimaced and forcefully shoved off the other's hands, resuming his work on the high school grade questions. Seconds passed as the atmosphere in the classroom grew cold, sending shivers up the second year's spine, "What the hell do you want?" He spit out.

Imayoshi chuckled and dug around in his pockets momentarily before pulling out a small three by two inch box, the cover decorated in elegant swirls.

"...Cards?"

"Poker," Imayoshi explained, letting gravity take over as he let go of the deck and watched it slam onto the wooden desk. "Simply put, I want Mako-tan to entertain me."

Hanamiya snorted, placing his pencil down, "What makes you think I'll play with someone like you?"

"Ah, you wound my heart Ko-chan," Imayoshi rubbed the edge of his eyes in false sadness, "Since you insisted so badly, you can play dealer," the male grabbed a nearby chair and deposited himself opposite of Hanamiya, shuffling the cards out and planting them in the other's line of vision.

Hanamiya saw a challenge when he was presented one, and roughly grabbed the deck, scowling as several cards spilled out.

"Ara~?" Was the only sound Imayoshi had to make before the cards were shuffled thoroughly and being thrown across the desk in two haphazard piles, the game ready to begin. The senior hummed considerably before throwing a card down into the center, grinning as he did so. "It just crossed my mind that we have nothing to bet, so..." a hand wrapped itself around his tie. "I'll bet my tie."

"I feel so motivated now, _senpai_," Hanamiya said, disgusted, as he reviewed his own hand and threw down his play.

Ignoring the quip, Imayoshi immediately burned several cards, replacing them, "Did I hear that you bet your shirt? How scandalous, 'Miya!"

"Maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you would've heard me," The second year threw down another card, grimacing at his new pick.

"Only if you let me put it up yours," Imayoshi leered, glancing at his cards. "Call," Hanamiya raised an eyebrow at that. "It's getting hot in here, what can I say?"

"Check."

"What a short game. Check," Imayoshi flipped over his cards, revealing a three of a kind.

Hanamiya cursed, throwing down his one pair of fours and engaging in a heavy staring contest with the glasses bearer, "I am not, I repeat – just in case you're too busy sticking your head up asses to listen – I am not taking off my shirt here."

Imayoshi pushed the cards into a rough pile and worked his fingers into the shape of a deck, "Who said we had to do it here? I know plenty of dark spots where the cameras won't spot us," his grin only seemed to grow bigger as the seconds ticked on.

"No, fuck you," Hanamiya spit out. "hurry up and deal."

"Such a brute! I wonder why this delicate flower of a senior even gives you the time of the day!" Imayoshi mimicked the other and shuffled the deck with lightning speed, two piles before them within seconds. They sat in silence for a few moments, looking over their hand and contemplating the right moves. "Your shirt still stands."

"For the last time, we are not playing strip poker or any form of stripping game!" It was visible in the crease of Hanamiya's brow that he was getting more than a little pissed.

"I'm just betting for you, to make the game more interesting!" Imayoshi argued in false anger.

"I don't want to bet anything you delusional fuck!"

"My hearing is impeccable, Hana-chan. If it makes you feel better, I'll just settle for imagining your metaphorical shirt off," He leaned on one arm, eyes obviously focused on Hanamiya's torso.

"Please. Don't," Hanamiya said in a bland tone, realizing that his anger was only getting the older male off even more. He threw down a flurry of cards and replaced them, the corner of his lips twitching upward and he calculated the numbers.

"In my defense, it is a nice shirt," Imayoshi said after his turn.

"Stop it with the shirt!" The point guard yelled at him. "Check!"

The third year pouted as they both flipped over their hands. Two pairs of eyes drifted from one set of cards to the other, and Hanamiya swore his jaw was just seconds away from dropping onto the floor.

"One pair versus a Straight, I win," Hanamiya grinned and piled the cards together, stopping in his tracks as Imayoshi began to work at his tie and shirt, a grin on his face, "What are you doing?" he deadpanned, irritation boiling beneath the surface.

"Taking off my shirt," the noirette had already removed his tie and began to work on the row of buttons, revealing his chest.

"I can see that! _Why_ are you taking off your shirt!?" He yelled.

"I'm not that ugly, Mako-tan!" Imayoshi set his shirt on the floor and leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand, grabbing the deck and dealing another set of cards.

"This is the last game I'm playing with you," Hanamiya grabbed his hand and scowled.

"What a wet blanket, let's go big this round then!"

"If you bet another piece of clothing, I will flip this table into your head."

Imayoshi let out an exaggerated sigh, placing down a couple of cards. They went through the game, this one considerably longer than the others.

"Check," Hanamiya said after a while, placing down his hand.

The other followed his actions, and after inspecting the cards, Imayoshi had claimed victory once more, "So, about that shirt," he smirked at the other's face who, instead of responding, kicked the table over and stormed out, muttering about '_a stupid, perverted senpai'_.

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_This was really for fun, and shouldn't be taken too seriously._

_Hope ya'll enjoyed this! I've been on a project lately that involves much writing, and while I want to pump out another episode of Vicissitude, it's been hard for me. School will be starting soon as well, but I'll try my best to keep providing content to all my lovely readers._


End file.
